


An Unusual Sort of Family

by scarecrowstories



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Relationships, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi, Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn, basically the cast of da2 tbh because theyre all hanging around??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-10-09 22:41:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10423425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarecrowstories/pseuds/scarecrowstories
Summary: A slow-burn (eventually mature) romance where Fenris and Garrett fall in love with each other, while Garrett and Anders also do so at the same time. Mostly follows canon timeline. How much angst and conflict will it take before the 3 of them can be happy together?!





	1. Meeting Fenris

**Author's Note:**

> this fic can also be found on my writing blog, scarecrowstories.tumblr.com. I promise it'll eventually have a happy ending, so if you're into slow-burn eventual-threesomes, stick around! please let me know what you think about this first chapter; I hope it's not too slow of a start for the boys!

Chapter One: Meeting Fenris

Fenris closed the door and stared at the room full of corpses. Blood was still seeping across the floor, a foul stench beginning to settle like a blanket. He wasn't in the mood to clean it up tonight, not with how exhausted he was. It wasn't like he planned on having guests anytime soon, so there wouldn't be anybody to complain about it.

Meeting Garrett Hawke had been interesting, to say the least. The man was sarcastic and flirty, but with a good heart. Fenris was surprised to find himself laughing when Hawke called him handsome - surprised, and then a bit embarrassed at being so transparent. After so long keeping strict control over his expressions, letting go was difficult. Or it should have been, anyway. Why had it been so easy to then? Perhaps because he wasn't used to that sort of treatment; even recalling it made his cheeks grow warm.

Stepping over and around the bodies, Fenris made his way upstairs to go to sleep. It had been a stressful night. To have not even found Danarius in the end made all of the tension drain from his body, leaving him exhausted. Though worry naturally remained in the back of his mind, a constant awareness that his old master was still alive, he couldn't deny that there was comfort in knowing that he was far away. If nothing else, there was that.

The master bedroom was in better condition than anywhere he'd ever slept. Sure there was a draft coming through the windows, various molds spreading from the waterlogged windowsill, and filth dragged in from the streets strewn about the floor, but it still had a roof (albeit with a hole) and a bed. If the former was what he considered a luxury, the latter was nothing short of a miracle. He'd been sleeping in alleyways almost exclusively since arriving in Kirkwall, rarely indulging in a night at an inn.

Was it truly safe to sleep in this bed? Could he afford to let himself get so comfortable that he might not wake in time to fend off any dangers? Looters he could handle, as they would be ill-prepared for battle, but what if someone in Hightown alerted the city guard to the sounds of fighting? They would see an armed elf covered in blood, and could he blame them for doing their jobs? He didn't want to have to kill good people who thought they were protecting the city if he could avoid it.

He sat on the edge of the bed and waved away the rising plume of dust from his face with a sigh. It was so quiet here, the calm stillness of the night only occasionally punctuated by a distant dog bark or slamming door. The city was, for the most part, asleep. He hoped that he would soon be, too.

Looking around, he spotted a dresser that looked sturdy enough to serve his needs. He dragged it across the floor, grimacing at the unpleasant scraping sound, and moved it up against the door. When he stood back, he couldn't help but smile. If anyone tried to break in now, he'd have plenty of time to ready himself. It was as safe as he could make it.

Sighing again, he returned to the bed and stretched out, reveling in the relief of his joints popping. He didn't feel like he could afford to take off his armor, but even still he was more comfortable than he could ever remember being. Exhaustion allowed him to push away the nervousness gnawing at the back of his mind, and after making sure his sword was within arms' reach, he fell asleep.

When he opened his eyes and found the sight of the room unfamiliar, he jerked up while immediately groping for his sword. After the first few panicked moments, he remembered what had happened the previous night. Exhaling slowly to steady himself, Fenris pulled one of his gauntlets off so he could rub at his eyes and run his fingers through his hair. He would have to take a bath and wash his clothes one of these days soon, but today he wanted to simply rest as much as possible.

After stretching, he stood from the bed and moved the dresser back to where it belonged. He exited the room in silence, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, and began to explore. The mansion was in worse state than he'd thought. How long had it been left unoccupied? By now the bodies were giving off a horrific stench that he steeled himself to ignore. It was nothing he hadn't encountered before, so he knew he'd get used to it and stop noticing soon enough.

He was just beginning to poke around the kitchen for food, finding all of it spoiled, when there was a loud knocking at the door; he froze in place. Who would knock if they knew this place to be abandoned? Part of him hoped it was Hawke, but the rest of him was wary about getting his hopes up. He approached the door slowly, pausing when they knocked again, hand never leaving the hilt of his sword. When he turned the handle, he opened the door just enough to see who it was and was flooded with relief.

It was Hawke after all. "Good morning, Fenris!" Hawke greeted with a smile. "Or is it good afternoon already? I just came by to see how you were settling in and invite you on a job, if you're interested?"

Fenris pulled the door open long enough to drag Hawke inside by the arm before shutting it again. "Did anybody see you coming here?" he asked, all of his previous paranoia returning in a rush.

"I doubt it, the roads were pretty deserted," Hawke said, rubbing at where Fenris' gauntlet had dug into his arm. "I'm sorry, did I startle you?"

"It's nothing," Fenris said, avoiding his eyes. "Would you like to sit somewhere? I'd like to hear more about this job." Just then his stomach began protesting its hunger loud enough to be audible; Hawke laughed, then smiled.

"Are you sure you don't want something to eat first?"

"I would, but I couldn't find anything here that wasn't already spoiled," he admitted, crossing his arms.

Hawke's smile melted into a frown. "That won't do. And you gave me all your coin last night, too. How about you come back to my place for lunch? No good to talk serious things while hungry." Fenris' face was cast down but Hawke saw his eyes peek up through his bangs briefly before he looked away again. "Come on, mother won't mind. And you can meet my sister, Bethany!"

"Are you sure? I would feel I owe you more than I already do," he protested weakly, knowing that it was in his best interest to accept but feeling awkward. 

"Of course, it'll be a good chance to get to know one another a bit better before we work together." 

This time when he smiled Fenris felt himself smiling back. "Then I thank you; lead the way." 

"Great!" Hawke reached out for Fenris' hand to pull him along and stopped when he saw Fenris jerk back and pull his hands close to his chest as if guarding himself. Fear and confusion briefly flashed through Fenris' eyes; he looked as though he might run at any moment. "Sorry about that," Hawke said carefully, "I'm used to doing that to friends and siblings, but if you'd prefer--"

"I would prefer not to be touched," Fenris cut in. "I'm sorry; I meant no offense, I just--"

"It's okay, you don't need to justify it, I respect you." Hawke opened the door and stepped outside. "Come on, it doesn't smell like death out here!" he teased, waving his hand in front of his nose dramatically.

Again, Fenris found himself wanting to smile. "Lowtown won't be much better."

"Hey, Lowtown only smells like piss and trash. That's loads better than corpses."

Fenris chuckled and shut the door behind them, squinting at the brightness of the sun. The entire walk to Hawke's home he was content to listen to the man talk. He spoke of Lothering, the town his family fled during the Blight, and told Fenris about his younger siblings. There were a few times when Fenris thought he was prompting him to join in the conversation and reveal details about his life. He thought for sure that Hawke would press him with direct questions, but when he let Fenris' silence speak for itself, he was happy to continue talking.

What surprised Fenris was how easy it was to listen to him. He would've thought he'd find it annoying to listen to an almost-stranger prattle on about his family, something he never had the luxury of knowing. But instead he found it endearing, just like Hawke's flirting the previous night. In fact, he would say he enjoyed listening to the man talk. He was expressive and animated, infectiously overflowing with passion. When they finally arrived at his home, Fenris was almost sad that the conversation was over.

It was a small place, a filthy hole-in-the-wall that was much too cramped to house four people comfortably. When they entered, a young woman peeked her head around the corner of the nearby doorway. "Didn't expect you home yet! Brought a friend by for lunch?" Moments later she emerged and walked over to them, giving Hawke a hug and extending a hand to Fenris. "I'm Bethany."

"Fenris," he said, shaking her hand. Hawke had said she was a mage, and so he was wary. But after everything he heard about her, Fenris was less wary than he'd expected to be. He saw the family resemblance instantly in her smile and the way her eyes shone bright. Maybe it was unwise of him to feel at ease simply because those features reminded him of Hawke, but he did all the same, foolish or not. 

The three of them had easy conversation until their mother returned and lunch was made. For the most part Fenris kept to himself, responding when spoken to but not wanting to intrude. Listening and observing their dynamic was entertaining enough, he thought. Hawke teased his sister in a loving way that confused Fenris as much as the equally playful responses she gave. Their mother looked exhausted but overall content to see her children being themselves. 

Fenris wondered if this was how most families passed their meal times, a pang of jealousy sinking into his stomach like a pit. He did, however, find himself joining in with a sarcastic comment here and there near the end of it all. He could get used to this.

Afterwards, Hawke announced that he and Fenris had business to discuss, and that he would return later. Once back outside, Fenris felt more energized than he had in a long time. He'd slept all night in a real bed, gotten fresh air, and had a decent meal. 

"You look pleased," Hawke noted. "I'm glad we were able to feed you. We should talk about the job offer, though. If you accept, your share of coin should help keep you fed for a little while, at least."

Fenris nodded. Yes, he could definitely get used to this kind of life, he thought as Hawke continued to talk.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The job turned out to be to stop a group of men who preyed on the Fereldan refugees in Darktown, luring them in with the promise of a job that could get them out of such poverty, and then selling them into slavery. There were several of them, and they changed their story multiple times to throw off suspicions, so they had gotten away with the scam about a dozen times. It was probably too late to save the poor people they'd already sold, but Aveline had tipped Hawke about their hideout when her people finally found out.

Fenris had to admit that he admired Aveline's courage. If anyone found out she told her friend about this so that he could find and murder them before the city guard could simply arrest them, she would likely lose her position. He almost admired Hawke for having such strong moral convictions. For a sarcastic ass, he clearly cared about the wellbeing of people. Well, good people, anyway.

Accompanying Fenris and Hawke on this job were a dwarf named Varric and Bethany. When they approached the hideout in the dead of night, a warehouse so old and dilapidated that only the most desperate would see it and think it held their ticket out of poverty, they ducked around the nearest alleyway corner and huddled together.  
"Okay, so I'm thinking I'll kick the door down and we all rush in. Varric, if you could keep to the shadows and move a lot so they have trouble finding you while you shoot, that ought to distract them enough to let me and Fenris cut them down. Bethany, you too. Mother will kill me if you come home injured." He scratched at his beard for a moment, raising a hand to cut Bethany off when she opened her mouth to speak. "I know, I know, you can heal, but don't risk yourself, okay? Try to stick to, like, setting them on fire and such. Or freezing their ankles to the floors, or something."

"You don't really have much of a plan at all, do you?" Fenris asked.

"Well it's not like Aveline handed me a floor plan! We don't have any idea what it's like in there. They might even still have some of the people they've taken, so we'd do well to at least try to talk about it," Hawke reasoned.

Varric nodded. "True, no harm in trying. But we've talked enough, I think. You ready? I am."

They crept around the corner and up to the door together. Hawke motioned for them to back up a few steps and then after taking a deep breath, he slammed his armored boot into the center of the door forcefully enough to swing it open loudly. If it had any locks they were certainly broken now.

Fenris found it interesting getting used to the dynamic of fighting with three people who he was hardly acquainted with and yet still expected to trust. Did he really know if Varric was going to shoot the man coming at him in his blind spot? No, he didn't, but he couldn't let that uncertainty slow him down as he blocked another man's dagger, lunging his sword into his gut. And of course Varric did in fact have his back, quite literally.

He was getting into the rhythm of it as they moved through the rooms. The fighting didn't last long but by the end of it Fenris was reasonably sure he had broken his arm when he let it get bashed with a shield, toppling him over before he could stab the man. It had been either let that happen or let the archer in front of him shoot at point-blank range, and he hadn't been about to let her do that.

"Let me take care of that," Bethany offered, catching her breath and pushing sweaty hair behind her ears.

At first he flinched away, instinctively glaring and moving to guard himself, only his broken arm could barely move without the pain overtaking any fear he felt. The others stood still around him, unsure whether they should jump in or not. A few moments later his expression softened and he stepped forward again, eyes downcast. "I would appreciate it," he muttered.

Bethany healed him efficiently and with minimal contact (had Hawke told her that he didn't like being touched?) before they all paused to observe their handiwork. "I'll let my contacts know about this in case similar groups crop up," Varric said.

"Those poor refugees, though," said Bethany. "Maybe we should search for a basement or some kind of hidden room? Just in case?"

"We could," Hawke agreed, nodding. "How about this, then: someone needs to bring this letter to Aveline so she knows we're done here. The rest of us can search."

"You and the elf can probably get the job done yourselves, don't you think? I can take Bethany home and then deliver the letter," Varric suggested.

"I can--"

"I know you can take care of yourself, but after shutting down an operation like this I'd say better safe than sorry. They're much more likely to target a pretty young girl than a surface dwarf anyway."

"I'm fine with that if you all are," Hawke said. They all nodded. "Excellent." He pulled a crumpled envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Varric. After the two left, he turned to Fenris. "Right. I doubt we'll find anyone, but she's right that we may as well try. We should stick together in case there's more hiding."

Fenris nodded and followed along quietly. He was hyper-aware of every minute movement that he and Hawke made, startling at anything else he heard beyond that. They wound up finding nothing and nobody. "Unfortunate," Fenris remarked. "They're likely already halfway across the sea."

"I'm sorry."

"Why?"

Hawke shifted awkwardly on his feet. "It's just… you were a slave too, so I figured it must be upsetting knowing what they're going to." After a tense silence, Hawke sighed. "But there I go making assumptions as always. I'm no good at this am I?"

"There's no need to worry. I'm not used to consideration, is all. Thank you. But I'm fine."

"Good, I'm glad," Hawke said, visibly relieved for a moment before his eyes widened slightly in panic. "Not that you're not used to consideration! Glad that you're fine! Ugh, I must seem like such an ass."

Fenris chuckled. "It's fine, I promise. Thank you for bringing me along. Who does our pay come from, if I may ask?"

It took Hawke's brain several long seconds to start working again after hearing Fenris chuckle. All he could think about was how brightly Fenris' eyes had lit up, how for a moment he appeared completely at ease. He was beautiful. Hawke shook himself from those thoughts just before Fenris looked like he was about to repeat his question. "Ah, yes, well, it depends on who ordered the job, really."

He cleared his throat and started walking so he could attempt to focus more on talking to Fenris rather than ogling him. He felt so rude! "Sometimes the city guard pays us to take care of things, if Aveline can convince them they have the funds for that sort of under-the-table operation. They have all sorts of rules to follow, but mercenaries don't, so we're convenient for jobs that they're worried at too sticky to handle. Other times Varric's contacts have work for us."

"So is anything we do legal?" Fenris didn't particularly care, but he was curious. Honest work for honest pay wasn't something he'd ever had, so it wasn't as if he had an opinion on the matter now. Besides, he was a fugitive squatting in a Hightown mansion whose occupants he'd killed. He couldn't care about legality anymore at this point even if he tried.

Nonetheless, Hawke let out a brief laugh at his question. "Maker, no! Mostly we kill the shitty people who the guard are too lazy or too stupid to catch. We get the odd errand for a noble or the chantry, but it's mostly like this. Sound okay for you?" When Fenris nodded, Hawke smiled. "Good, now let's hurry before we're discovered bloodied with all these fresh corpses."

They walked the streets in relative silence, leaving the overwhelming stench of Darktown for the slightly less odorous Lowtown, soon arriving at Gamlen's doorstep. "I'll be by tomorrow some time to drop off your share of the coin? I'm sorry, you're probably hungry now and a promise of food isn't enough to fill a belly."

"I'll be fine," he insisted, though he wanted to admit that he agreed.

"No, nonsense, wait right there. I'll be back with something," Hawke said, quietly slipping inside. He eventually emerged with a few slices of bread and an apple which he held out to Fenris. "It's not much, but it'll hold you over."

Accepting gifts was difficult, but Fenris' cramping stomach demanded that he do so anyway. He thanked Hawke and felt his face warm at the smile the man wore as he told him to be safe. The walk back to Hightown was uneventful and peaceful at this time of night, allowing Fenris time to reflect on the night's events. He liked Varric well enough so far. Bethany was frightening in battle, as she was easy to underestimate. She was smart to use that to her advantage. And then there was Hawke.

He hardly knew him, yet he felt as though they'd been friends for many years. He wouldn't say he was fully comfortable around him yet, but Fenris was put off by how many times he found himself relaxing. Perhaps only because it was in contrast to his constantly agitated state, always wary, always peering over his shoulder as his hand twitched towards his sword. Regardless, he wasn't sure what to make of the man yet.

It would be interesting to see where this went.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

"You so have a crush on him, Garrett!"

Hawke groaned. "I do not!"

Bethany giggled. "Oh yes you do! I saw how you looked at him during lunch and then tonight! Oh Garrett, you're bad!" She was light-hearted in her teasing, but Hawke still found himself burying his face in his hands. "You can admit it to me, I won't tell. Him, at least."

"Bethany!" he protested weakly. "You're right, I just met him. How could I have a crush on him already? Just because he's cute?"

"So you think he's cute, then?" she smirked triumphantly.

He groaned again, falling sideways on the bed and burying his face in the pillow. "Okay yes, I do think he's cute," he said, muffled. "But that's all! Well, you know, so far. But that really is all so don't you go spreading rumors!"

She simply kept smiling, shaking her head affectionately as she sat next to him on the bed. "I won't, I promise. It was just so nice to see you happy like that. Y'know? Things have been tough, so you deserve to live a little. Have a crush, make some friends, have fun together, that sort of thing."

Hawke turned his head enough to look at her, embarrassment and denial finally gone from his face. "Thanks, that does sound nice, doesn't it? We'll see. He could turn out to be a total jackass, who knows?" At that, Bethany bumped his shoulder with her fist and rolled her eyes. "I'm just saying it could happen!"

"Sure, it could, you're right." She stood, stretching her arms over her head. "But that's enough of that. I'm going to bed before I fall asleep standing. Sleep well!"

But in their shared room, Hawke found it impossible to fall asleep. He could hear the even breathing of Bethany, the gentle rustle of blankets as she tossed and turned as she always did. Try as he might, though, he couldn't get his mind off of the subtle ways Fenris expressed himself. The elf was still a mystery to him, naturally, but one that he wanted to solve. It could mean a crush later on, or it could not. He knew Bethany was simply teasing him for her own amusement.

It was too soon to be feeling this way already, he mused sleepily, refusing to acknowledge the inherent affirmation in that thought. That was a problem for another day.


	2. Meeting Anders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke meets Anders, and eventually introduces him to Fenris. It goes about as well as could be expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming back for chapter 2! Like all of my fics, this can also be found on my writing blog, scarecrowstories.tumblr.com. I'm gonna be trying to have Anders and Fenris get along better than in the games to make it more natural feeling for them all to eventually get together in the end. Feel free to throw advice/criticism my way!

Chapter 2: Meeting Anders

"C'mon, this guy's our best shot," Varric insisted. "It's not like it's any less dangerous than the other shit we do."

"True," Hawke admitted, stopping and turning to look at Bethany. "But I don't want you anywhere near the damned Gallows. Would you mind sitting this one out?"

Bethany looked for a moment like she was considering arguing about it before she crossed her arms and frowned. "I don't mind seeing as I don't want to go anywhere near them either. But I wish you'd stop worrying about me so much." Her expression softened as she sighed. "I know it's just how you show you care, but really, Garrett, you're going to have to accept that I've grown up some day."

"I know, it's an older brother thing," he said, smiling apologetically.

"I really don't think it is," Varric muttered. "Anyway, who's gonna go meet this guy at the chantry tonight?"

Hawke shrugged. "I dunno, I was thinking it'd be you and me, Anders, and maybe Aveline? Sorry, Isabela," he said, turning to her. "You'd draw the stares of any guardsmen we pass, and we need to not be remembered."

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Isabela grinned. "Of course they'd stare if they're stationed near the chantry, all they get to see all day is mage robes and chantry sisters." She turned to Bethany. "How's about you and I leave these boys to their plans? Let's go see Merrill, it'll be fun."

"Sure!" Bethany agreed. The two of them walked off, leaving Hawke and Varric standing in a grimy Darktown alleyway.

"So," began Varric, tone cautious. "You'd have to be blind to not see the look you gave Blondie in there. And after these last few weeks of making eyes at Fenris, tsk tsk." He put his hand over his heart in mock-hurt. "I'm almost feeling left out."

Blushing, Hawke had trouble getting his mouth to work for several moments. "What did Bethany tell you?"

"Oh-ho! So you've talked to your sister about your little crush! She hasn't told me anything."

He groaned and pointedly looked away, hating how transparent he clearly was. "Maybe I just think they're both cute, all right? It's not like I know either of them yet, not really. Why are you two so interested, anyway?"

Varric laughed. "Is that a serious question? Come on, Hawke, as far as appearances go you're as rugged and manly as they come. Seeing you get flustered just because a pretty boy said hi to you is priceless."

"Maybe I just want to be their friends, ever think of that? Ugh, whatever, let's just go find Aveline. We need to fill her in."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Anders' heart was beating rapidly at the thought of freeing Karl, of finally embracing him again after so long. He didn't like that he was having to trust these strangers to help him, but he had to admit that there was no way he could go through with this plan by himself. If there were Templars they could render him useless; he needed companions who could fight without magic, just to be safe.

"I'm almost there, Karl," he thought as they ascended the steps. His hands were beginning to shake with anticipation as he recalled how they felt to be held in Karl's. "We'll be free like we always wanted." We. Even thinking of them as a unit made his heart flutter; they'd been apart for far too long. 

He was desperate to hold and kiss the man once more, to see his smile and hear his laughter. They were older now, no longer the young idealists they once were, but the love was still there. Though their letters had been brief out of necessity, Anders' spirit had soared at the mere sight of Karl's familiar handwriting. He'd been longing for him so long that to finally have him so close again felt like a dream.

When he saw Karl standing with his back turned, it was all he could do to not run over and kiss the man immediately. Already he found himself fighting back tears, using all of his willpower to steady himself. They weren't clear of danger yet. He couldn't afford to let his guard down.

"Anders, I know you too well." Karl's familiar voice was like music to his ears, except… 

"Why are you talking like that?" Anders asked, cold dread filling him to the very brim. As Karl turned and Anders' struggled to process what he was seeing, the first silent tear fell. The mark of Tranquility. He barely heard what Karl was saying as he stared at his greatest fear. "Karl, no…" He wanted to fall to his knees and beg it to not be true, but he was frozen in place.

"This is the apostate," he heard Karl say. Numbness had overtaken him, crying out painfully as he felt Justice seize control of his body in righteous fury. He was dimly aware of his body's actions, watching from afar as Justice used him to viciously murder the Templars. He wanted to scream and cry and rage, but could do nothing other than watch the deserved slaughter. When he came to, feeling suddenly exhausted, he looked tearfully at Karl whose expression was astounded. "Anders, what did you do?"

He wasn't sure what he did or how long its effects would last, and it felt like his heart was tearing in two. Here was Karl standing before him, whole if only for a moment, and there was nothing more he could do. Justice may have known, but he couldn't exactly ask him. Instead he was forced to watch as Karl faded again into Tranquility, eyes emptying of all emotion as he asked Anders why he was looking at him like that.

Anders knew what he had to do. He pulled his knife from his belt and stepped forward, feeling as if time had stopped around them. The world was motionless and silent, and all that existed was the space between him and what was left of Karl. Somewhere in his mind was the part of him that was still screaming that this couldn't be real, that there had to be a way to help him if he'd been able to manage it at all before, that he didn't have to do this.

But he did. He knew he did. The words felt foreign tumbling from him mouth, seeming to travel miles to close the immense gap between him and Karl as he said his goodbyes. That distance closed in an instant when the knife plunged into Karl just below the ribs and angled upward, Karl collapsing helplessly against Anders. The gurgling sound that passed his lips slammed Anders back to reality as he watched Karl crumple to the floor, blood streaming from the wound as what little light remained in his eyes dimmed.

"Let's go before more Templars come," he heard himself say.

The walk back to his clinic felt eternal. He couldn't shake the image from his mind of Karl's eyes, panicked and desperate just before he faded again. How all the life left his voice. How his body slumped to the floor at his feet, his blood on Anders' dagger, on Anders' hands, his clothes. He wished he could turn to Hawke and his companions and ask that they give him space for the night; he wasn't in the mood to talk. They likely wanted an explanation, however, and he felt he owed it to them.

"That wasn't normal magic you did back there, was it?" Hawke cautiously asked.

Anders sighed. On any other day he would have hesitated to tell a stranger such personal information, but the pain of Karl's loss had skewed his judgement. He desperately sought to form a connection to replace the one he'd just lost, regardless of how little he knew Hawke. The words came tumbling out, the weight of it all easing slightly as he finally told someone, anyone, what had happened to him. 

"That explains your whole sexy, tortured look," Hawke said, a playful smirk on his lips.

To his surprise, Anders found himself chuckling, his cheeks warming. When Hawke left a few minutes later, leaving Anders alone with his thoughts, the lightness that had somehow settled in his chest disappeared. In its place sat a thick, heavy guilt. How could he be flirting with a man so soon after losing Karl? 

Limbs suddenly weighed down with every kind of exhaustion, Anders retreated to the small room at the back of the clinic and let himself fall onto the small cot he slept on. He didn't bother to remove his jacket or boots, simply curling into himself and staring at the wall, shifting until the lumpy pillow no longer hurt his neck.

"I'm so sorry, Karl," he repeated in his mind, as if praying for forgiveness. At some point his sadness became rage, his thoughts moving away from Karl and focusing on vengeance. On justice. 

"They will all pay," he repeated in his mind. A promise, not a prayer. This he would see to personally.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next time a job came Hawke's way, he figured he would invite both Fenris and Anders. The two hadn't met yet, and perhaps bringing them both would show Varric that he was serious about wanting to be their friends. Anything to stop the teasing. It was a small blessing that at least neither Varric nor Bethany seemed to have told Isabela anything. Where their teasing was occasional and casual, he had a feeling Isabela's would be incessant and merciless. And perhaps public. He didn't want that, especially as she was the one accompanying them.

Nor did he want what was currently happening: Fenris and Anders had immediately gotten off on the wrong foot and spent the entire trip to the Wounded Coast arguing. They had been asked to find and kill a group of Tevinter slavers who had taken many young elves away from the alienage. A simple enough task, in theory. However, they were known to have blood mages among them. Which was how the argument had started.

"How can you say that all mages are so awful? Blood magic isn't good, it's true, but we're not all like that!" Anders insisted.

Fenris scoffed. "I've yet to see any proof of that. Blood mage or not, that power inevitably goes to a man's head. How do you think Tevinter got to where it is? The mages saw themselves as superior and therefore fit to rule. And who could stop them?"

"Well that's obviously a problem, but I'm telling you, it's not like that here. We're practically slaves--"

"Don't you dare compare what you've gone through to slavery," Fenris warned.

Sensing that things would escalate if nobody intervened, Hawke turned to face them both. "Hey, now, let's calm down, all right? This is obviously an emotional topic for you both, so why don't you drop it for now? We've got a job to do. Talk it out over drinks later, okay?"

Both men glared at him and then at each other before looking away. Hopefully that would be the last of that.

"Sounds like what you two need is a good--"

"Isabela, I'm gonna stop you right there," Hawke interrupted.

"You're no fun," she said, winking at him. "You know it's true. I can even think of a few ladies down at the Rose who would love a chance to see more of those tattoos."

Fenris grimaced at that. "No thank you."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself. But if you're ever in the mood, feel free to ask for recommendations."

After that, there was an awkward lull in the conversation. Hawke realized that Isabela was trying to lighten the mood by distracting them, but it seemed to have instead embarrassed them into silence. At least they weren't bickering anymore. It was disappointing seeing them both act so hostile so quickly. He agreed with a lot of the things that both of them had said, so why wouldn't they listen to one another? Perhaps one or both were having a bad day; he hoped that was all that it was.

When they'd finished killing the slavers and rescuing those who they could, the four of them found a clear spot to sit on the shore and stare out at the sea to catch their breath. Hawke was careful to sit between Fenris and Anders. "Lovely breeze this evening. Refreshing," he said. He was glad they'd decided to camp for the night and get a fresh start in the morning.

"Makes me miss my ship," Isabela admitted, resting her chin on her hand. 

"I've only been on a ship once," Anders said. "To come to Kirkwall. Mages don't get around much. Wardens do, but I wasn't with them long."

Isabela ran her fingers through her hair, tousled by the wind. "Can't say I blame you. It doesn't sound too fun, and the Blight's over anyway."

Anders let out a dry laugh. "Yes, well, trust me, there's still plenty of nightmare-worthy horrors in the Deep Roads. I'd rather not talk about it, though, if it's all the same to you."

With that, she stood and stretched with a yawn. "Whatever you say. How's about we let the two strong men over there gather firewood while we set up camp?"

After they agreed, Fenris and Hawke walked away towards a nearby thicket to find suitable wood. The tension seemed to melt once they were farther away from Anders and Isabela. Fenris' shoulders relaxed, expression softening.

"How are you feeling? You've seemed pretty wound up all afternoon."

Nodding absently, Fenris simply said, "Yes," before they continued their walk in relative silence. While they gathered wood, Hawke tried several times to start conversation. Each time he got nothing more than one-word responses at best.

Sighing, Hawke stood in front of Fenris. "Look, I need an honest answer: are you okay?"

Fenris made a disgusted noise before fixing his eyes on the wood in his arms. "That mage is insufferable," he muttered. "He doesn't know when to stop. I thought I'd made it perfectly clear that I was not willing to discuss the topic, and yet he persisted. And now I find you doing the same. Are many southerners like this?"

"I-- Fenris, I'm sorry, I--" Hawke stammered, entirely taken aback at the accusation. He'd only meant well, but he could see how it came across as prying. And even given what little he knew about Fenris, he could respect why the man would value his privacy.

"I apologize, that was rude of me. I'm unused to friendship, as you can imagine. I am curious, though: is this more or less normal for the south?"

Hawke was equally taken aback by Fenris' apology. "Friends tend to ask after one another's well-being, if that's what you mean," he eventually said. "I'm sorry if I seemed nosey, I just want to make sure you're okay."

The sincerity in his tone must have been enough, as Fenris smiled. In that moment Hawke was certain he'd never seen anything more beautiful. It was gone as quick as it had come, but Hawke couldn't wait to see it again. "Thank you," Fenris said. "I'm fine. I suppose I need more time adjusting to this life. All this time I've been on the run and I've hardly made any acquaintances, let alone friends."

"Don't worry, you'll get there," he reassured, relieved to hear that the elf wasn't angry, only uncomfortable. "Let's head back before they worry. I suspect Isabela brought some alcohol, and I've got cards. May as well have a fun evening!" When Fenris nodded, following him away from the thicket, Hawke couldn't help but smile in anticipation.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

While Anders didn't drink because of Justice, the other three had no trouble finishing the bottle of whiskey between them. By then they were quite drunk, which he found oddly endearing. Isabela and Hawke seemed to be the flirty types, while Fenris only got grumpy and loudly protested their compliments. Anders chuckled; he wondered if they'd remember this in the morning.

"All right, you lot, let's get to sleep so you don't sleep in until the afternoon. I've got a clinic to run," he chided. He pulled Hawke up, steadying him on his feet. "Can you two make it to your tent all right? If not, I'll be right back."

Isabela laughed out loud. "Don't worry about us, sweet thing, you just take care of Hawke." She scrambled to her feet and looked down at Fenris with a wink. "We'll manage just fine, won't we?"

"So long as you keep those hands to yourself," he warned, barely slurring.

She raised both arms defensively. "I wouldn't dream of it, ser."

Anders rolled his eyes and left them to it; they'd be fine. He stumbled to the tent that he'd agreed to share with Hawke and helped the man down onto his bedroll. He kept muttering apologies for drinking too much, but Anders ignored him, settling down in his own spot.

For a few minutes, Anders thought that Hawke had already passed out. He was enjoying the quiet, though he had to admit that it was an enjoyable evening. Sitting around a campfire, playing cards, drinks and jokes and laughs… it all reminded him of his time with the Wardens. It was a long time since he felt like he had friends. He could get used to this, provided they stayed sober sometimes.

"Aaaaaanderrrrrrs," Hawke moaned pathetically. "I don't feel good."

"No, I don't imagine you do. That was a huge bottle, and none of you ate enough to go with it."

"I'm dizzy."

"That happens, yes." Anders rolled so he could see Hawke, who he found facing him. "You'll be fine after you sleep it off."

Hawke groaned again, hand clumsily swiping at the spit leaking out of his mouth. "You're cute when you care." He giggled at the flush on Anders' cheeks. "You are!"

Anders felt his face heating and cursed his pale complexion giving him away so easily. "You're not so bad yourself," he said. Now he really hoped he wouldn't remember this in the morning.

"Aww thanks," Hawke muttered, blinking slowly and grinning. He kept murmuring, but his voice was thick with sleep and alcohol, making it impossible to understand. Anders watched as his eyes drooped shut, mouth slackening as he began to snore. 

He was pleasantly surprised by how at ease he felt in spite of the earlier arguing and combat. This had been his first time meeting Fenris, the last of Hawke's friends he hadn't met, and it had admittedly not gone well. What was Hawke doing hanging around someone so insensitive in the first place? His own sister was a mage! Why on earth was he tolerating Fenris' assertions that all mages deserved to be locked up?

Rather than angry as he had been earlier, now Anders was simply tired. It was the same old argument he'd heard a thousand times. He wanted to believe that Fenris could be convinced otherwise, but he was doubtful. Only time would tell.


	3. At the Hanged Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of the Kirkwall crew are drinking together at the Hanged Man, and there's discussion of the upcoming Deep Roads expedition. Maybe one day Fenris and Anders can even get along?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, friends! I got a sweet-ass full time job and am in the middle of moving so things are a little hectic at the moment! But I promise not to forget about this fic, even if updates can't be as quick as I'd like. Thanks for reading! Check out this and other stuff at my writing tumblr, scarecrowstories.tumblr.com

At their usual table at the Hanged Man, Varric and Hawke were discussing the upcoming expedition into the Deep Roads while Merrill got to know Fenris and Anders better. Hawke had to admit that the group he seemed to have gathered was a bit rough around the edges with more clashing than he would have liked, but at least they all worked well together. He wanted them to be friends, not just professionally acquainted.

"So you think tomorrow will be the day?" Varric asked, noticing Hawke was distracted.

He tore his eyes away from the others and looked back at Varric. "Hmm? Oh, yeah, probably. I've got a few minor things to take care of for some chantry sisters, and there's a noble who's paying quite a pretty penny for me to get a hold of some unsavory evidence that could be used against him."

Varric laughed, shaking his head. "Dare I ask what?"

"You know, the usual. A drunken younger son gave a precious family heirloom to someone he had a one night stand with, having professed his eternal love, and now the blackmail's come in." Hawke rolled his eyes and took another swig of ale. "They're rather desperate to have it back. So that's good money."

By then the others had stopped talking and were listening. "Would you like help with that?" Merrill asked. "Because I've really got nothing better to do and I'd like to get out of the house!"

"Sure, the stuff for the sisters is gonna take some searching, so the more eyes the better." Hawke put down his mug, now empty, and turned in his chair. "How about it? Either of you up for a morning hike?"

Anders shook his head, his tired eyes saying more than enough on their own. "Not me. Any day now we'll be seeing the chokedamp break out in Darktown. I need to be there when it comes."

"Fenris?"

Fenris thought it over a few moments before shrugging. "Sure, I could use the coin."

"Excellent! I'll come by in the morning." With that, Hawke turned to continue talking to Varric about the expedition while the others fell back to their own conversation.

"Has Hawke talked to either of you about this expedition?" Anders asked. He was hoping that Hawke had, or else he had a feeling that he was going to be asked to go along with him into the Deep Roads. Of course he would agree if that were the case, but Anders stomach turned at the thought nonetheless. He'd go, but he would be far from happy about it.

Merrill shook her head, but after taking a sip from his mug Fenris said, "Yes, he seems rather excited about it, don't you think?" At that, Anders' nerves calmed a little before he realized that it could mean he'd be stuck in the blighted Deep Roads with this stubborn elf! "I admit I'm not keen on the idea of going," he muttered, taking another sip.

"Me neither," Anders agreed. "It's awful. Between the horrible little tunnels and the giant spiders and deepstalkers it hardly needs the darkspawn to be a miserable place." He shuddered. "And the stench! The air is as stale as you can imagine, which makes it feel heavy and taste terrible. Not to mention the sounds…" Shaking himself from the thoughts, Anders downed the rest of his water. "So no, I'd rather stay topside."

He must have looked more ill than he thought, as Merrill placed a gentle hand over his and offered a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry you've had to go through that. A dear friend from my clan was conscripted when the blight began. She was so scared, but she was sick and they said she didn't have a choice if she wanted to live. The Wardens don't sound terribly welcoming."

Huffing, Anders nodded. "You can say that again. It was okay at first, you know. The commander conscripted me to save my life, too, and I was scared, but I made friends. We were stationed in Amaranthine just after the blight. But eventually my friends were transferred, and the commander too." He realized then that Varric and Hawke had stopped speaking and were listening intently to what he was saying. Suddenly self-conscious, he was hesitant to continue; he did anyway. "That's when the bastards turned on me. So I ran away to here."

Varric let out a low whistle. "Sounds like you had a rough time."

"Yeah, well, killing broodmothers in the Deep Roads will do that."

"Broodmothers?" Hawke asked, concerned. Anders wanted to kick himself; it wasn't a topic he was in the mood to discuss now or ever.

He sighed. "It's a long, complicated and, frankly, disgusting story, but all you need to know is that they're where darkspawn come from."

"Is there anything else we'd need to know in case we encounter one?"

"Not really," he began, dread filling his heart. "I mean, just be careful? And a side note to spare you an unpleasant surprise: they might talk. And no, I don't want to tell you what it said."

There were a few moments of silence before Hawke seemed to come to a decision. "That's fair. I know you don't like the place, but would you come on the expedition? Your knowledge could be what saves our lives."

That was the question he was afraid of. He could tell that beside him Merrill was sitting perfectly still, tense, and Fenris was watching him with indifference. He wanted to be honest, but he also wanted to offer help; was that even an option? 

"Hawke," he began delicately, "I won't lie to you. I would pay my weight in gold ten times over if it meant I'd never have to go back. But I also agree that having someone there who's at least done this before could be vital to your safety. I don't want to go, no; nor do I want to put your life at greater risk."

"So that's a….?"

Now exasperated, Anders put his head in his hands. "It's a yes. You helped me with..." he trailed off, his throat suddenly tight, "with Karl. The least I could do is help you in return." Without looking up, he heard Merrill excuse herself for the night, saw her feet as she pushed her chair in and left.

Hawke put a hand on his shoulder where Merrill's had been, only much warmer. Anders wanted to reach up and grab it, but suppressed the impulse. "You can say no if it makes you that uncomfortable," Hawke offered.

At that, he fought the urge to shake the hand off entirely, wanting to tell Hawke he wasn't some fragile thing who'd never stood up for himself before. Instead he solemnly shook his head and gave Hawke a tired smile. "My discomfort is a small price to pay if it saves lives." He stood, yawning. "I've really got to be going. Best of luck tomorrow; stay safe."

"Wait!" Hawke said. "Do you want me to stop by tomorrow evening and tell you how it went? I mean, that way you know if we've finally enough coin to fund the expedition." Hawke was tripping over his words, his cheeks lightly tinted red; was he embarrassed? Anders heart skipped a beat. Why did he find that cute?

"That sounds great," he replied, enjoying the sparkle in Hawke's eyes at that. "Anyway, good night." He didn't look back as he walked away lest they see that his cheeks were pink too.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Once Anders had left, Hawke turned to Fenris. "Now, don't be upset that I'm asking this, but does his coming along change your mind? I know you two don't get along."

Fenris waved a hand in dismissal. "It's fine, I'm sure there'll be enough going on to distract us from disagreements. Besides, it's true we would value from his presence."

"At least try to play nice," Varric chimed in, pushing his chair back and getting up. "I'm gonna turn in for the night too. Don't have too much fun without me."

Without Varric there, the two of them fell into a comfortable silence. Before, Hawke would have worried that this could become awkward, but instead the lull in conversation was pleasant. Hawke and Fenris sat there enjoying their drinks and each other's company. "Thank you," Fenris said, seemingly out of nowhere. At Hawke's confused expression, he continued, "Thank you for checking in with me. I know our arguments can get heated and I know we'll likely never see eye to eye."

Smiling, Hawke shrugged. "Sometimes people just clash. As long as you're mature enough to admit that and you're both willing to work in spite of it, then we'll be fine."

Fenris rolled his eyes. "I can only speak for myself, but I'm willing to try my best. You need someone who can use brute force, and Aveline is too valuable to remove from the city for so long. Likewise, you also need a healer, and as you know one with knowledge of the Deep Roads it's only practical to invite him."

"Yeah," Hawke admitted, frowning at his now-empty glass. "Bethany isn't pleased, though. We talked about it again recently, and I'd told her that I thought it best if she stayed with mother. She was convinced it was all just me being her over-cautious big brother." He chuckled softly, looking over at Fenris with distant eyes. "Did I tell you we had another sibling? Bethany is -- well, was-- a twin. He died while we were fleeing Lothering. How could I not be overly cautious?"

Unsure how to respond, Fenris chose to remain silent at first, an uncomfortable tugging at the back of his mind insisting he should be more upset to hear this. "I'm sorry," he finally said. The concept of family was so alien to him that he didn't know how else to respond. What consolation could he offer? He could tell that Hawke was about to open up to him, and the unspoken expectation that Fenris offer the same terrified him. He wasn't ready.

But to his surprise, Hawke simply nodded. "Yeah, me too," he murmured.

His nerves were getting the better of him. Fenris finished his drink and pushed back his chair. "I really must be going if we're planning on heading out early. You know where I'll be." Having excused himself, Fenris left the noise of the bar behind, deeply breathing in the crisp night air. His walk back to Hightown was uneventful, save for the warning glare he had to shoot at the men who'd looked ready to rob him blind.

Once the mansion door was closed behind him, he sighed, listening intently to the way the old house creaked in the wind. He did his customary sweep of the rooms to make sure nobody had snuck in before barricading himself in what he'd claimed as his bedroom. It was a familiar routine by now, one he continued as much out of habit as perceived need. 

He paced the room for a few minutes, unsure why he was so on edge. Eventually, he draped himself over the bed, stretching his limbs with a groan. He rolled onto his back. Was his anxiety due to both Hawke and Anders opening up to him? It was the only reason he could think of. Whereas Anders had just been rambling, he'd expected that Hawke would want him to respond in kind. Instead he seemed content enough to let the matter go; that should have been a relief to Fenris. 

It was, he concluded, but it also made his heart ache in an unfamiliar way. Hawke barely knew him, and yet trusted him enough to willingly show himself in a vulnerable state. All while not pressuring Fenris to return the gesture. He worked it over in his mind, identifying that the consideration in that was what frightened him. Why him? 

"He doesn't know me well enough to know better, yet," he thought, grimacing. How long before it was obvious that he didn't know what he was doing? He had no clue how to interact with others, let alone how to be their friends. Was it too late to learn? Hawke didn't seem to think so.

"But what does he know, anyway?" he thought, feeling disgusted with himself. He curled up on his side and glared at the wall. It didn't matter. So long as they were paying him it was worth sticking around to see what happened. Is that what free men did? He had no idea of that either. It would have to be a concern for another day, he decided, grabbing one of the spare pillows and hugging it close to his chest, feeling like a child but too tired to care.

xxxxxxxxxx

Locking up the clinic for the night, Anders looked around the shabby space. The small cots covered in tattered blankets, the rickety workbench he prepared salves and poultices at, the half-rotted shelves holding jars of supplies. The high ceiling was nice for staving off the claustrophobia of Darktown. The dirt floor was convenient for the inevitable messes it saw. But it was all his own.

He could feel the press of Justice at the back of his mind like an oncoming headache, urging him to do something, anything. Unable to ignore the pressure behind his eyes driving him forward, he let himself fall into the chair at the uneven desk by his sleeping area. It was covered in papers, many of which had lines upon lines of messy scrawl. There were words crossed out, lines cramped in between other lines as if an afterthought, and an abundance of marginalia. 

He picked up a sheet at random and skimmed over what was written. Finding it unsatisfactory, he did the same for another sheet. And another. After he'd given them all a quick read, he pushed the chair back in frustration. There was no way he'd get any work done tonight, he thought insistently, wishing Justice could hear him.

Ignoring the tug in his chest that sought to anchor him at his desk until sunrise, he hurried into his sleeping area before he lost his nerve. It was a small backroom that had likely been used for storage in his clinic's previous life as whatever-it-was. All he'd put in it was a bed, a small table, and a wooden chest for his precious few belongings.

Anders sat on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. He'd let his emotions get the better of him earlier, revealing personal information to Fenris of all people. Fenris! The rude elf who never smiled and constantly grated on his nerves with his borderline cruel statements about mages! 

Even still, Anders wasn't afraid of the information being used against him. It wasn't about that. He was more troubled by how easy it was to say those things. Why did it feel like Fenris understood him on some deeper level, in spite of how adamantly they argued? Flinging his boots off, Anders made a frustrated noise and fell back against his pillow.

He felt like a fool. But as he closed his eyes he thought that perhaps there were worse things.


	4. Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three Men Flirt(?) Awkwardly And Badly, Emotions Occur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so dang sorry it took me two whole months to update, my new job has consumed so much of my energy OTL I can't guarantee how long it'll be between chapters now that I'm trying to Adult but I really hope it was worth the wait!! The next chapter is gonna be The Gang Goes to the Deep Roads!! Feel free to check me out at my writing blog, scarecrowstories.tumblr.com!!

Chapter 4: Preparations

"Anders, right? D'you need some help?" Bethany asked, cautiously entering Anders' clinic. "My brother told me why you couldn't go with him today. I figured I'd drop by and see what I could do," she offered. 

Looking between the cramped table in front of him and Bethany in the entryway, Anders considered declining. He knew Hawke had a sister, but he hadn't met her yet; how could he be sure this was her? A deep-seated unease had made its home in his heart. He couldn't afford to misplace his trust; he sighed. "Please don't take this the wrong way but I don't know who you are, and I don't want to get involved with any more strangers. I've done enough of that lately."

Bethany took a few steps in and shut the door behind herself. "I understand. I only wanted to offer help preparing tonics and poultices. And if you wanted I could even stay to help with the healing. Is there any way I could ease your mind?"

He looked at her for a few moments; the family resemblance between her and Hawke was strong. More than simply having the same hair and eyes, there was something about her expression that looked like him as well. If she wasn't Hawke's sister, someone out there was rather desperate to lure him into a trap. It seemed unlikely enough. "It's all right. He's mentioned you, but I see the resemblance. What was your name again?"

When she smiled the similarity was even more obvious. "I'm Bethany. Garrett's mentioned you more than a few times; glad to finally meet you!"

"Likewise," he said, hoping his relief at having assistance wasn't too visibly obvious. There were several ex-circle mages who came by to help him with the healing from time to time, as well as a few herbalists. They all lived in Darktown, all refugees who knew how important it was to be there for one another. Today, however, nobody had been able to spare the time. Anders understood; it happened sometimes. "How do you feel about mixing up salves to disinfect wounds? I never seem to have enough."

Nodding, Bethany strode over to the workstation. After he showed her the ingredients and methods he typically used, there was a knock on the door. Swallowing hard, he walked to the door and peered through a crack before opening it fully. "Can I help you?"

Murmurs, panicked whispers, then a sigh as the door was quickly closed. Before Bethany could ask what had happened, Anders was by her side, grabbing her wrist. "What's wrong?" 

"Those men keep an eye out for me. If they get word of Templars coming into Darktown, they let me know - better safe than Tranquil - and they have. I have filthy sheets we can throw over most of the furniture, and there's a group of refugees coming by to loiter with drinks and dice to throw them off." He grabbed a large pack from under the table and started to shove the various containers into it, hands shaking. "We need to take as many of these as we can. I'm so sorry but please, help me?"

She didn't hesitate to pass him the nearest jar, grabbing whatever was in reach. "How long do we have?" she asked. "If we're quick, we can make it to Lowtown and stay at my uncle Gamlen's place before there's any danger."

"Thank you." Anders frowned, pulling the filthy sheets from a crate and tossing one over the table. "Take a few to cover the beds," he said, passing some to Bethany. He ran over to his desk, groaning at the sight of his manifesto. Piles of paper spread out across the desk, spilling onto the floor. Sometimes he managed to bring the whole thing with him; other times he'd had to burn any progress he'd made to start again.

With Bethany's help he felt he should have enough time. He stacked the papers more neatly, tied them with the string he kept for this exact purpose, and tossed the piles into a nearby canvas sack. It would be hell to sort through later, but at least his work would be safe. At least he'd be safe.

Better safe than Tranquil.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The day's work was done early for once, and with better-than-expected pay, too. Hawke felt a weight lift from his shoulders when he opened the door to Gamlen's house, eager to change into comfortable clothes before heading down to the Hanged Man. He'd stopped by Anders' clinic first, hoping to invite him along, but he didn't answer the door. Hawke assumed he was busy. A giggle from the bedroom stopped him in his tracks.

"Seriously? That's too much!" Bethany.

"Hello?" Hawke called out, fighting the surge of protectiveness threatening his temper.

"Oh good, Garrett's back," she said before poking her head around the corner. "Anders is here." She smirked when Hawke's cheeks immediately tinged pink; he knew he'd been caught. Still smiling, Bethany moved out of sight.

Hawke took his armor off and laid it by the door before walking into the bedroom to see Bethany relaxing on her own bed while Anders was sprawled across his. Hawke's bed. His heart skipped a beat at the view: Anders' blond hair spilling across his pillow, jacket discarded to the floor revealing how perilously thin he was (but oh so beautiful, Hawke thought), fingers toying with the folds of the sheets. He must've stared too long, as Anders sat up and raised an eyebrow. "Are you feeling all right?" he asked.

Quickly (perhaps too quickly) nodding, Hawke sat next to him, knowing he was failing at acting casual. A crush was one thing, but seeing his crush lying in his bed, the afterglow of laughter still bright in his eyes? "I'm fine, just tired," he muttered as he looked away. "We're all meeting at the Hanged Man soon and I wanted to change my clothes. That's all."

"Maker, I could use a drink," Bethany commented. "You wanna hear why Anders is here?"

"Because he's our friend?" Hawke guessed, confused.

From there, Anders told Hawke about what happened at the clinic: how Bethany had come to help him, and how the refugees looked out for him. "If it weren't for her I'd have spent the day roaming the sewers. Probably wouldn't go back there for another day or two after that."

Hawke frowned. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea. Please come here next time that happens, okay? You'll be safe here."

The gentle smile that lit up Anders' face was the loveliest thing Hawke had ever seen. He quickly ushered Bethany and Anders out of the room with the excuse that he needed to change his clothes because the others were surely wondering where he was by now. In reality he wanted to hide his intense blush. "I'm in deep trouble," he thought, cursing his inner hopeless romantic. When he emerged he cleared his throat and announced that he was ready to leave.

They were barely a block away when Hawke remembered to ask Anders if he minded Fenris being present. "I know things are strained between you two but please try not to get into it tonight. We're celebrating finally having enough for the expedition."

Anders grimaced. "I don't try to, he's just so…" he trailed off, sighing. "He's difficult. He thinks we're all like the mages in Tevinter, and he thinks they're all the same. It's cruel to generalize like that, like we're not even people," Anders started, stopping when he saw Hawke's conflicted expression.

"He was hurt badly, Anders," Hawke said, gaze softening. "I don't know how much he's told you and it's not my story to tell, but believe me when I say I understand why he feels that way."

"Even with Bethany being a mage?"

Hawke nodded. "You two could really benefit from sitting down for a long talk. I think you'll find you're more alike than you think." After that they fell into a comfortable silence until they arrived, greeted by the shouts of Varric and Isabela at their favorite table. Fenris waved, stifling a yawn. "Hey! Are Merrill and Aveline coming?"

Pulling a chair out for Hawke next to his own, Varric shrugged. "They both said they'd be a bit late, but we'll see. Didn't expect you to find Blondie though; I stopped by the clinic to invite him and the whole place was a ghost town!"

The three of them paused, exchanging an awkward glance. "There was a raid," Anders said carefully, eyes darting back and forth. He sat down and crossed his arms on the table. "If it weren't for Bethany I might not have gotten out in time. It's always a close call."

"Shit," Varric replied, taking a swig from his mug. "They've been pulling that crap more often lately."

"Why?" Fenris asked. He'd been quiet until that point; they all turned to look at him.

Anders let out a sharp chuckle. "Why? Because they want to find and imprison or murder everyone like me. And where better to hunt than Darktown? Nobody cares what happens to the poor refugees, so if they kill someone who isn't a mage, nobody looks twice." He opened his mouth to continue, but Hawke put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. He thought about what was said earlier and tried to calm his rising rage. Just when he thought his anger would get the better of him, Fenris frowned, and Anders felt calmer. It was a silent gesture, but for some reason it meant a lot to Anders that Fenris visibly acknowledged his hardship even if he wouldn't say so aloud.

After that, Isabela cut in with a joke she'd heard earlier at the docks, winking in Hawke's direction. He'd known she was deliberately steering the conversation towards happier topics and was grateful for it, joining in immediately. Merrill and Aveline arrived shortly after, and the night passed quickly in the rounds of cards and drinks. One by one they made their excuses to leave, until it was just Fenris, Anders, and Hawke.

"Are you going back to your place tonight?" Hawke tried to sound gentle, hoping he didn't sound overly drunk.

"I can't," Anders said. "Not yet. I'll spend the next few nights wherever I can, maybe find some alley by the docks where nobody will bother me."

"You could stay with me in Hightown," Fenris offered, surprising even himself. Before he had time to overthink, he continued, "It's the last place they'd look, and there's enough room." When Anders agreed, stammering, Fenris glimpsed Hawke smirking at them. Suddenly self-conscious, he excused himself and told Anders to come by when he was ready. He hardly noticed how fast he walked home until he closed the door behind himself and took a shuddering breath. 

His palms were sweaty, as if he was nervous. He rolled his eyes at the thought. Why would he be nervous? He was trying to be civil with a man who he strongly disagreed with, and who he was about to spend an indeterminate length of time in cramped tunnels underground. It was perfectly reasonable to at least pretend he could stand the mage, even though the idea of pretending to like anybody left a nasty taste in his mouth. He was free to feel however he wanted about anybody he encountered, why waste his time acting like Anders' views didn't bother him when the mage was intent on debating with him?

Fenris was lost in thought, sitting on the stairway and staring at the wall when the front door cracked open. He immediately jumped to his feet as panic rose in his throat, mentally preparing for the worst, when Anders slunk through and shut the door quietly behind him. He looked over at Fenris with wide eyes, raising his hands to show he was unarmed. "Sorry, should I have knocked?" he said. "You're, um, glowing a bit, you know?" he continued when Fenris did nothing but stare.

A few moments later, Fenris sighed and sat back down on the steps. "Yes, I'm aware. Feel free to draw a bath if you'd like; I'm going to sleep."

"I might do that," Anders admitted, shuffling his feet as he looked around. "And where did you want me to stay? I don't want to impose."

The stiff politeness made Fenris want to laugh, but he resisted the urge. Part of him even found it endearing though he'd never admit it. "Wherever you'd like," he answered. "I'm sure you want your own space, and there's plenty of guest rooms down here."

Anders yawned. "Thank you, Fenris, really. I know we don't exactly get along but I appreciate this." He stretched his arms above his head, joints audibly popping. "I haven't had a proper bath in ages. I feel downright spoiled." He gave a weak chuckle and asked Fenris to point him towards the bathroom. 

After that Fenris hurried upstairs to his bedroom and moved the dresser to its place in front of the door. He took his armor off and changed into one of the breezy tunics he'd found in the dresser before opening the window for the evening chill. He was starting to feel more at ease as time went by, a fact he noted with caution. His sword lay beside the bed, his armor nearby. Even in a tunic and his smallclothes he knew he could defend himself adequately, but the thought that he was growing comfortable here still unnerved him.

Best not grow too comfortable, he thought, taking deep breaths to ease his anxiety. He couldn't afford to let his mind be overwhelmed with fear, nor could he allow himself to fully relax. He was free, but hunted - safe now, but for how much longer? It wouldn't - couldn't - last forever. He knew that. Forcing himself to stop pacing and lay on the bed didn't help to redirect his nervous energy. Fists clenched, feet tapping, Fenris knew it would be another sleepless night. Some were better than others, but he sensed he was in for one of the tough ones. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He must have fallen asleep eventually, as he woke with a start to the sound of knocking on his bedroom door. Remembering Anders was over, Fenris stumbled to the dresser, shoving it just far enough aside that he could open the door.

"Are you all right?" Anders asked. His hair dripped dark spots onto the shoulders of his shabby tunic.

"You woke me up to ask me if I'm all right?" Fenris bit back, still blinking sleep from his eyes.

"Well I heard some odd sounds while I was in the bath, and figured I'd check on you. Sorry for showing concern, it won't happen again."

"Yes because that's clearly what's bothering me."

"What was I supposed to think? And anyway it looks like I was right; was it really necessary to barricade the bloody thing? I'm not some criminal here to steal you away."

"You say that assuming I do it because of you, but I barricade it every night." There was a brief, tense silence. Fenris frowned. "Is it so odd to take precautions?"

Anders opened and closed his mouth a few times, lost for words. "I understand," he blurted. "Being on the run-- I know how-- it's not--" he stammered. He took a breath to steady himself. "I know what that feels like. I'm sorry for bothering you. Good night." With that, he turned and walked away; Fenris let him. It had been an odd and uncomfortable exchange, one he wasn't intent on prolonging or repeating.

He closed the door and pushed the dresser back up against it. He was still annoyed at having been woken up, especially since he'd apparently managed to fall asleep so quickly. When he curled up on the bed again he rubbed at his burning eyes and hoped he'd be able to do it again. They needed to be rested for the next day if they were going to spend it preparing for the Deep Roads. Especially given how much he needed to mentally prepare himself to put up with Anders.

Perhaps that's too harsh, he momentarily considered before scoffing and thinking, Probably not.

Why only probably? He pushed the thought away. This wasn't the time for it.

In the morning they barely spoke, drinking weak tea and sharing a small hunk of bread with cheese. It felt more natural than their stiff interactions the previous night, though Fenris couldn't put his finger on why. He couldn't deny that he enjoyed having quiet company to share his breakfast with, but nevertheless he was relieved when Hawke's voice called to them from the front door.

Hawke's grin as he strode in sparked something equally unfamiliar in Fenris, an affection he didn't believe himself capable of. Maybe this was what it felt like to have friends. Maybe he could learn to be happy after all. In time. When he was ready.


End file.
